Have a nice trip See you next fall
by cozycatastrophe
Summary: Beckett deals with the idea of Castle leaving for the summer by taking it out on the punching bag in the precinct gym. Spoilers for Episode 24.


**Have a nice trip. See you next fall.**

**A/N: I've been itching for Kate to lose her cool ever since I started watching this show… and Monday's episode seemed like the perfect time for something. So yes, spoilers for Episode 24: A Deadly Game. Comments are appreciated, especially since I wasn't quite sure how to end this one.**

The punching bag swung back towards the flying fist, her knuckles already aching at the momentum the bag had. There was no one to hold it now, and the detective had no reason to believe that the last person to do the job was going to conveniently show up and save her from the viciously spinning sparring equipment. But this woman was so involved in the swirling emotions that seemed too stubborn to be released through physical exertion that a fantasy of the prince charming from robbery coming to rescue her from herself wasn't even in her head. He would never show up now, even with the somewhat peaceful and remorseful break up. No loud cry or grunt came from her lips and the only sound was the dull thud of unwrapped knuckles hitting the duct taped bag.

So distracted even one of the most diligent detectives on the force had forgotten to wrap her damned knuckles.

The small sip of beer she had taken downstairs had left a sour taste in her mouth and a rocking emptiness in her stomach that made her want to vomit. Or maybe that was something else. Maybe it was the heat she could still feel from the stares of her friends and co-workers as they watched her set down that forgotten beer she had lost a taste for down on her desk and turn on her heel to head upstairs to the gym. No one had bothered to follow, knowing that while Kate Beckett had some of the best self control out there, she probably would have no problem swinging at them instead of the beaten up punching bag. They all knew her well enough to realize when they needed to leave her alone.

She'd come down eventually.

The lights above her head were out, her focus on exerting the frustration and pain in her chest too powerful to even give herself more light to see by. The city lights outside of the precinct were enough to allow her to see her adversary, but unlike the last frustrated fight she had gone through in this gym, her opponent wasn't going to hit back, nor was he going to crack any jokes about fighting a girl. Shadows danced on the opposite wall, thrown from the streetlights outside as Beckett danced around the swinging bag, giving it the old one-two every so often before throwing up a foot to send it rocking backwards. Creaking chains that kept the bag from falling groaned at the exertion, but event this beaten up piece of equipment showed no signs of giving up. It had seen far too many frustrated and tired cops to let them down. Too many had come upstairs to the gym to work off the anger of a suspect with an airtight alibi or the sight of yet another rape victim laying downstairs on Lanie's cold table.

It had been a while since this bag had seen this particular cop lose her cool.

Kate could feel the skin starting to wear on her knuckles, knowing that soon enough she was going to be wrapping these up with bandages to heal over the long weekend. But she didn't care in the slightest as another roundhouse kick sent the bag swinging. None of it mattered because she knew that instead of spending the long weekend on a nice beach with the man that drove her heartbeatingly crazy… she was going to be spending it alone, looking for a new place to live.

All because she had waited too long.

She had ignored Castle's playful banter for the past year, and yet had never realized that it could possibly be something real… that _her_ feelings could possibly be real as well. That the charming writer could get under her skin and to her heart. Beckett, with all the observational skills in the world, hadn't seen this one coming, even if every one of her friends had. She had been too stupid and too stubborn, refusing to be just another one of Castle's one-night adventures, despite seeing him fall into short relationships that had ended because of the woman instead of him. She had given up the Prince Charming of the precinct to take a chance on him.

And had been too late.

Kate Beckett was never one to bounce from guy to guy just because they had the best thing to offer. Surely Demming would have won in a Darwinian contest against Castle, especially if you were going to consider their track records with women. But unfortunately for all, Kate was one to follow her heart, something she thought she had been doing from the beginning with that first kiss Demming had given her in the hallway.

Too bad her brain had gotten in the way of everything. And that was what made the waiting frustrated cry slip from between her parted and panting lips as she attempted to put a hole in the punching bag with her exposed fists as she realized her mistake.

Her stupid, stupid brain.

Sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades, making the gym clothes she had kept there during the week definitely need a wash. It had been lucky that she hadn't taken everything home quite yet and she knew that no one would want to come near her if only because of the stench of sweat. Little did she realize the wild look in her usually calm brown eyes. A look that would have made Ryan and Esposito run for cover or at least give her space.

She had been so stupid to think that the playboy bestseller would wait for her to get her head on straight and realize the signs. Her hair slipped from the broken hair tie, dropping down onto her sweaty shoulders, something she had been trying to prevent earlier but didn't quite care about anymore as she spun and landed a swift kick to the body of the bag. The realization that she was going to have to give up sooner or later, that the bag wasn't going to break, dawned on her, but Kate didn't care. She wasn't one to get frustrated and start throwing things like coffee mugs or paper weights. But just this once, Kate prayed that the next few punches would rip the duct tape open and allow the innards of the bag to satisfyingly spill out onto the padded floor of the gym.

It was an irrational wish, but she prayed it would happen. She kept the attack up, barely allowing it to swing back to its original position and still for another hit. Childishly the image of Castle's face flickered onto the broken skin of the bag, which only inspired further volleys. But punch after punch, the bag stayed resilient to her efforts, taunting her to forget the training from the academy and take her damned nails to the skin of the bag, ripping it open in frustration. She had been so stupid to think that he would just wait around for her! But his ex-wife, a woman he had distinctly vented about and spoke about with even the smallest hint of malice?

Kate had given up her relationship with Demming for that? To get the heart that hardly ever truly saw daylight stomped on by the man who murdered fictional people for a living? The man that made her frustrated day in and day out as he trailed behind her? The man that made her smile on the worst of days… that had even saved her life a few times… had stayed with her in the scariest of moments? The fighter held back another yell in fear that her friends would hear it all the way downstairs and come up to check on her.

She couldn't let them see her like this. Rejected like some high school aged girl seeing her crush walk away with the head cheerleader. She had left the party without another word to anyone else and she knew they realized where she had gone, but there was no reason to give them incentive to come check on her.

Even if she was bleeding.

The dull ache in her knuckles had grown to a sharp sting and Beckett paused in her attack to glance down at both hands, realizing that the skin had broken on the majority of her knuckles and were now bleeding pretty damn good.

"Damn it." She whispered, feeling the sting and wishing she had finished that beer before coming up here. The frown on her face had deepened into a hurt grimace as the pain slipped through her knuckles and up her hands into her wrists, a satisfying pain that seemed to emulate how she was feeling now. The feeling of getting punched in the chest. A chest that was heaving with weighted breaths as she stepped back from the swinging bag, blood welling to the surface of her knuckles and threatening to drop down onto her gym shoes.

The detective closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the anger and flustered fear that had taken her by surprise only minutes earlier when Castle's publisher and ex-wife had shown up. The feeling of getting punched in the chest at the shock of it all, and the embarrassment of thinking he would just sit around and wait for plain ol' Kate Beckett. Because she wasn't femme fatal Nikki Heat who would have seduced Castle from day one. She wasn't the hot detective that could balance a steamy, sexy personal life with the hardened days of working the homicide beat.

No. She was just ordinary, homeless, workaholic and now single Kate Beckett.

She needed a beer.

A small sigh escaped as Kate stepped away from the bag, the vicious feelings of hoping that Castle's ex-wife somehow managed to get really ugly in the span of the summer fading slowly as the pain in her hands overcame it all. The frown deepened and Kate knew she was going to have to get bandages for her hands.

She had to keep going, no matter the roadblocks.

Step one… see how bad these cuts were.


End file.
